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Afternoons With Opa

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The gleam of midday sun
touch his loving, weathered face.
He is with me,
personified,
on my bed wearing a sweater
my Ty teddy named grandpa bear.

In the kitchen,
old ornaments on the walls laughing with us
as I stumble to my seat.
I am anxious!
Snacks are minutes away!
He seems so comfortable,
moving with ease
yet he is a hawk
watching,
ensuring I am taken care of.
Strawberry jam smeared
burnt toast beneath
broke my reverie,
cut into checkerboard squares
with a cup of water at its side.

Years of labour damaged
hands once soft.
Our fingers intertwined
for adventures around the block.
I run free,
he observes,
content,
he will never leave me.

Two inviting chairs and a sofa,
yet I always choose his lap.
The obsolete TV rattles
Blue Jays fan for life.

6 years inseparable
too many years apart now,
my true best friend.
To myself each afternoon:
“Can I have him back?”





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